Stay
by SciFiDVM
Summary: "Then he opened his eyes and saw her face. The reality of what they had become to each other, what he had done, and what he had thrown away crashed down on him unexpectedly. There was really only one thing he wanted, one thing that he could say." Post-episode fic for 3.14 - Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps).


**Title: **Stay

**Show: **Covert Affairs

**Summary: **Eyal finds himself in a position where he must make a decision about Annie… again.

**Spoilers:** Everything through episode 3.14 – Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps)

**Pairings:** Annie/Eyal Friendship

**Rating:** T for the typical Annie/Eyal innuendo

**A/N: **I LOVE the Annie/Eyal chemistry, but I'm not entirely sure if they'd be as much fun if they ever actually resolved all that sexual tension. I'm on the fence. I wrote this the minute 3.14 ended (after repeatedly screaming "GO TO HER!" at the television as Eyal steps out of Rivka's car) and apparently a lot of other writers see this pair getting into similar situations and having some similar thoughts, so I want to get this up before it's done to death. I think it's complete, but I can add another chapter if I feel so inclined or enough reviewers want to see it go a little further…

She asked me to stay  
and I stole her room  
She asked for my love  
and I gave her a dangerous mind  
Now she's stupid in the street  
and she can't socialize  
Well I love the little girl  
and I'll love her till the day she dies

**Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) - David Bowie**

He closed the door to Rivka's car behind him and emotionlessly crossed the deserted parking lot to his rental car. He quietly turned over the ignition and calmly drove a mile or two before turning into a strip mall parking lot. Once the car was turned off, he took a deep breath and attempted to process what just happened. Then Eyal proceeded to punch the steering wheel, kick at the foot well, and scream his lungs out until a tear began to well in the corner of his right eye. He took another few deep breaths to compose himself. While the temper tantrum had not been especially dignified, he had refrained from resorting to his side arm to impact further devastation on the innocent vehicle, which was an improvement for him.

The apartment was the last place he wanted to go, but he had heard her orders to report straight back to the farm where her post-capture debriefing was to be finished. That meant that the apartment would be empty, and it contained a decent stock pile of good liquor. That would be enough for tonight.

….

Annie stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for her floor. It had given her so much comfort when Eyal had brought her here that first night- no memories of being gunned down in the kitchen, no faint smell of gunpowder still in the air, and so much warmer and inviting than the sterile anonymous hotel room. It had felt safe. Now simply walking into the building caused a knot to form in her stomach. She was going to get in, get her things, and be gone as quickly as possible. He was, no doubt, already on a flight back to Tel Aviv, where he would be decommissioned – burned, for all intents and purposes.

No matter what he said, she knew that he was playing the patsy. Earlier he had sworn on his son's life that he had not intentionally deceived her. Whatever he was saying now was only damage control for his agency. But he had made his choice. For the first time, he had chosen his agency over their friendship. Everything had changed. She leaned against the railing along the back wall, closed her eyes, and fought back a tear.

She didn't see the hand shoot between the elevator doors at the last second to keep them open, but she didn't need to open her eyes for the instant recognition of the man that stepped into the elevator car with her to register. As soon as she opened her eyes they met his. They both simultaneously started apologizing and making excuses for their presence.

"I thought you were being sent back to the horse farm."

"I thought you had left the country."

"This is awkward, I'll go." He muttered and began to exit the elevator.

"No, it's your apartment." She reached a hand out to his shoulder to stop him, "I was just going to get my things and leave." The elevator door closed with them both still inside and lurched upwards. Annie let her hand gently slide down the length of his arm. As her fingertips ghosted the palm of his hand she noticed the fresh open wounds on his knuckles. "Eyal, what happened?" Her voice was pure worry.

"It's nothing. I decided to vent some frustration on an inanimate object. It won."

"God, Eyal, knowing you, I'm surprised to didn't just shoot it."

A sound that was a mixture of a laugh and a sob escaped him. It was as if she had read his thoughts from earlier. When he had bestowed the moniker of "Neshema" on her during their first meeting, he had meant it to be sarcastic. Now he wasn't sure whether to consider the choice ironic or prophetic, for she truly was his soul. After all the terrible things he had seen and done in his career, that this one girl could look into him so completely, and still see something good astounded him.

Before she had a chance to question the suddenly introspective look on his face, the elevator chimed and the doors opened. They walked silently together down the hallway, Annie about two strides behind him. He unlocked the door and held it open for her. She entered cautiously and went straight for the master suite to gather the small pile of clothing and toiletries she had stashed there.

He placed his gun on the side table by the door, along with his wallet, cell phone, and car keys. All he had to do was keep himself occupied for a few more minutes and she would be gone and it would all be over. It had broken him to watch her walk away earlier that day, and he wasn't sure that he could do it again. The whole point in quitting Mossad had been to avoid having to endure another situation just like this. Perhaps that was the penance he would have to pay for his betrayal, but he had no doubt that this inability to make a clean break was also tormenting her, and she didn't deserve that. He had no idea how to rectify the situation. To tell her the truth and plead for her understanding and forgiveness would still be tantamount to treason, and after his actions today, he doubted that even her sometimes annoyingly overly sympathetic heart could be convinced to forgive him. That left only one option. He had to continue to push her away, for good this time. A sharp clean cut always healed with a smaller scar than a jagged wound allowed to linger and fester. It would be better for her and for him. He could go back to working alone, the way he always had before that ill-fated day in Zurich when a simple brush pass went horribly sideways and somehow the pronouns "us" and "we" dominated his actions and plans any time the blonde operative appeared on his radar over the next three years.

Eyal steeled his courage and walked towards the bedroom, where he could hear her opening drawers and shuffling items inside. He ran through options of what to say in his mind, what would cause the most hurt. Perhaps something about being played by her supposed asset that had absconded to be with her terrorist boyfriend. Maybe then tie that into something about Fischer. Being cruel had never posed a challenge to him before when he deemed it necessary, but now there was a pit in his stomach and the words were like acid in his mouth. He kept reminding himself that this was best and what he needed most was to be alone. He reached the doorway to the bedroom, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes before stepping through to where he could see her. Sarcasm and vitriol with the pure intent to alienate and drive her as far away as possible were pursed on the tip of his tongue. Then he opened his eyes and saw her face. The reality of what they had become to each other, what he had done, and what he had thrown away crashed down on him unexpectedly. There was really only one thing he wanted, one thing that he could say.

She had about half of her things piled in her arms when she noticed him standing in the doorway, watching her. His voice was soft and deep, and more sincere than she had ever heard, "Annie, stay."

"That's not a good idea Eyal." It retained her conviction, but came out only slightly louder than a whisper as he stepped towards her.

He got into her personal space, in that way that only he could. Then he brushed the hair from her shoulder, leaned in, and whispered into her ear, "Please stay with me tonight."

She dropped the clothes on the corner of the bed next to her. She leaned towards him and he began to hope that maybe she would be able to forgive him. Then she leaned back and hit him solidly in the jaw with a well-placed right hook. He staggered back only about half a step in shock, and she came at him swinging again.

She yelled at him, "You spend all afternoon telling me that I can't trust you, that our friendship has all been some kind of lie, and now you think I'll have sex with you?" She began swinging wildly at him, venting her fury, and not really trying to land blows.

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace, mostly to subdue the flailing. She struggled against him meekly for a moment until he placed his cheek on top of her head and started making calm shushing noises against her hair. Then her balled up fists clenched the front of his shirt and she began to sob softly.

"I know. I'm a real bastard some times." He soothed. A quick snort of agreement stifled her tears and brought a small smile to his face. "I can't lose you, Annie."

She looked up at him softly but honestly, "No matter what you tell me or what I believe, this is it Eyal. Mossad was talking about decommissioning you. Even if they don't, they'll still stick you behind some desk halfway across the world. There is no way either of our agencies will ever allow us to work together. When you leave this apartment, I will probably never see you again."

"Then it is a good thing I am no longer Mossad."

"What?" She was stunned.

"For years I have gladly given everything to Mossad without question. Tonight I was asked to give something that I was not willing to part with. The choice was surprisingly easy." He shrugged.

She couldn't imagine the betrayal he was feeling. "I'm so sorry Eyal."

"I'm not." He gave a sad lopsided grin. "Everyone in this profession makes decisions that they will regret. You have to get over it if you want to survive as a spy. I have not regretted one decision I have ever made when it comes to you, Annie Walker."

Annie looked put off. Was he going to try to support his claim of betrayal again? As she opened her mouth to question him, he cut her off, "Until this afternoon."

She looked up at him with that optimistic pouty expression that nearly broke his heart. "Eyal, what are you saying?"

He cupped the side of her face with his right hand and looked straight into her eyes. "I'm saying that I trust you. Completely. Always have."

She gingerly brought her hand up and placed it on top of the one on her cheek. He leaned down, gently rested his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes. The confession and all the choices he'd made throughout the day had drained him emotionally and physically.

He felt the grin widen on her face under his palm and he could hear the huge ear-to-ear smile in her voice even more clearly as she stepped back and looked up at him. "So… you're saying that I was right?"

He realized where this was going, dropped his hand from her face, and rolled his eyes. "I suppose you may have been correct in this situation."

Her voice was triumphant, without a trace of malice or mistrust, "So basically you're admitting that I read you like a book and all your powers of seduction and persuasion still couldn't pull one over on me?" He tried to look at her sternly, but couldn't restrain the small hints of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that makes me the better master spy." She stood on her tip-toes to attempt to level out some of their height discrepancy and tapped the tip of his nose with her index finger.

His head snapped back in laughter. "You? The better spy? You're meshuggeneh."

"Who you calling crazy?"

"You. Absolutely." He smiled warmly at her. "And there's no way you 'read me like a book'. Because if you could, you would have seen _this_ coming."

Her eyes got huge and her pupils dilated, but her body was unable to mount any other defense in the second it took him to snatch her up in his arms and tackle her backwards. She squealed as he flung them both into the bed, making sure he landed on his elbows to prevent crushing her under his weight. Then he began to tickle her sides mercilessly. She thrashed in a fit of laughter and clawed and kicked at him in response. He then caught her feet, removed her shoes, and began to trace his fingers along the arch of her soles to elicit more hysterical laughter.

Annie attempted to retaliate, but the severe former-Mossad agent appeared relatively impervious to the sensation. They struggled for position and better access to ticklish flesh for a few minutes until, inevitably, Eyal ended up on top. He straddled her waist and pinned her wrists beneath his knees. His fingers hovered next to her sides. The threat of the tickling sensation they posed made Annie continue to twitch underneath him.

"Say it." He grinned down at her.

"You are the master spy." She grumbled in defeat.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you." He smirked.

"You, Eyal Lavin, are the most masterful spy that I have ever met and your powers of seduction are unequalled." She yelled out overly emphatically.

"I accept the terms of your surrender, Operative Walker." He rolled off of her and settled next to her on the bed, on top of the now ruffled covers.

She rolled onto her side to face him and smiled. "I can't remember the last time I've laughed like that. I needed that."

He began to twirl a strand of her hair around his finger. "And I need you. Stay with me tonight."

She was taken aback at his honesty, and her face showed it.

"I'm not talking about sex, Annie." He shook his head at her.

The look she gave him was slightly incredulous.

"I'm done lying to you. I tried it once and it didn't end well." He sighed, "Today I gave up my country and the job that was the only thing I have believed in for nearly as long as I can remember. I just don't want to be alone right now."

Annie scooted towards him on the bed and wrapped her arms around him. They held each other silently for a long moment. "Fine." She whispered into his ear. "But no monkey business." Then she rolled over and spooned her back against his chest.

With his face buried in the sweet scent of her hair he murmured, "I wouldn't dream of it." He wrapped his arms around her protectively and pulled her body against his.

It only took a few seconds of being pressed up against him for her to realize something. "Umm… Pretty sure you're lying again."

His response was to subtly shift his position slightly on the bed so that her backside wasn't pressed quite so firmly against his groin. "Any chance we could pretend you didn't notice that?"

"No, not really."

"Any chance you want to... do something about it?" He whispered suggestively.

She rolled her eyes and got up off the bed. "What I'm going to do… is change into something more comfortable…"

At that Eyal raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Annie just rolled her eyes again. "Not like that… I meant something actually comfortable- like pajamas." His expression became somewhat crestfallen, but she continued. "Then I'm going to go order a pizza and crack open a bottle of wine. You are welcome to join me after you've taken a cold shower, or done whatever it is you need to do to take care of… that…" she gestured with a vague circling of her hand in the direction of the lower part of his body.

He sat up on the bed and posed her a hypothetical question as she gathered up the clothing that had been kicked off the bed during their tickle fight. "Have I ever told you that you drive me crazy?"

She sorted out a well-worn old sweatshirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants and deposited the rest of the pile in a heap on top of the dresser. She stopped at the door to the bathroom and turned to smile at him. "Many times, in many languages, and in many different contexts." Then she disappeared behind the bathroom door.

Eyal flopped back onto his back and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. He took a few long deep breaths to clear his mind, and then quickly got up and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before Annie finished in the bathroom.

When Annie walked into the kitchen, Eyal was uncorking a bottle of wine and she felt her breath hitch slightly at the sight. She had seen the man in everything from a thousand dollar suit, to a tailored tuxedo, to even just a towel, but something about the way he looked standing in his own kitchen in the snug fitting, slightly thread-bare t-shirt and the relaxed fit sweat pants hanging low around his hips hit her like a truck. Relaxed, domestic Eyal was something she had never gotten a good look at before, and the only thing she could think of was that it felt like something foreign and exciting, and simultaneously had that calm familiar sensation of coming home after a long time away.

He stopped to slide her iPhone across the counter to her without looking up from the wine. She ordered a feta, spinach, and artichoke pizza from Sal's down the street while he poured the cabernet into two oversized glasses. She gratefully accepted a glass, made her way over to the couch in the living room, and sat down with her feet curled up underneath her. She picked up the remote control and turned on the television. As she flipped through the channels, Eyal procured a large fleece blanket from the hallway closet, walked up behind her, and carefully draped it over her shoulders before walking around and taking a seat next to her on the couch. She smiled at him when he sat, but quickly returned her attention to channel surfing.

He sat nearly sideways on the couch, arm draped over the back of it, paying far more attention to the woman next to him than anything that might have appeared on the television screen. She had on no make-up and her hair was in a loose ponytail with a few errant strands framing her face that he desperately wanted to reach out and tuck behind her ear. Her Georgetown sweatshirt was a few sizes too large and did nothing to flatter the toned curves he knew lay underneath, but the stretched out neckline and loose threads along the edges of the sleeve cuffs gave it away as an obvious long-time favorite. The green, black, and blue plaid pajama pants were of an equally unflattering cut, but despite having borne witness to her in a variety of wardrobes, including her typical power suits, ball gowns, and even a terry cloth robe once, he had never seen her look sexier. She wasn't trying to impress or seduce anyone, no putting on airs or false pretenses. This was her, Annie, in her most natural and vulnerable state. After all he had put her through, that she still had enough trust in him to be this casual and relaxed made his heart soar in relief, but also made him feel like quite a schmuck at the same time.

"Here we go!" Her excitement at whatever she found on the television snapped him out of his reverie. The opening chase scene of Casino Royale was flashing across the flat screen.

"Really Annie, a spy movie?"

"You have no idea how many times I've seen this and wanted to criticize all the inaccuracies, but couldn't because the people around me couldn't know I was CIA."

"That must have been terrible for you." He snarked at her. She hit him in the chest with a throw pillow. "Fine. Let's evaluate the merits of James Bond." He relented, and was rewarded by her sidling up closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder. He moved his arm from the back of the couch to tentatively place it around her shoulder. When she didn't object, he began to relax and watch the movie.

"Have you ever driven an Aston Martin?" She asked as the expensive car on the screen met an untimely demise.

"Once." The answer seemed to stir some fond recollections.

"Why do male operatives get to have so much more fun?" She pouted.

"Don't get your little feminist spy panties in a bunch." He smiled at her discontent," It wasn't work related. Back when I was a med student, a buddy's brother worked for an importer. We took it for a test drive the night it arrived before the owner could take delivery."

"I'm not sure what I find more surprising, that you drove a $300,000 car, or that you actually had a friend." A smile accompanied the ribbing, so he accepted it graciously.

Attention turned back to the television, "No spy would follow a target up a structure like that." He pointed out.

"Exactly! It's not like there's anywhere else he can go. Just wait for him to come down!" She gesticulated angrily at the tv.

"Or just shoot him down."

"You would, wouldn't you?" She sneered at him, then followed it with a smile.

She felt good, normal even, in an odd kind of way. She realized that this must be what life was like for normal people. They come home to someone waiting for them, talk about their day at work with someone that understands exactly what they were going through, and make fun of tv shows like the Office, Grey's Anatomy, or Animal Practice that do a poor job portraying what their given profession is really like. "Normal" was not something that covert CIA operatives ever got to have. She was determined to appreciate the sensation, even if it would only be for just this night. She knew that tomorrow would come. Eyal's resignation would carry consequences that they would likely both have to face. She had no idea what he planned to do next, and she doubted that he knew either.

Just then a knock on the door signaled the arrival of their pizza. They both got up and moved towards the kitchen. Eyal got the door and paid the delivery boy while Annie set out a couple of plates. Together they nearly finished the entire pie and had to open a second bottle of wine about half way through.

As they finished eating, she noticed him awkwardly clenching his jaw between bites. That was when she saw the hint of discoloration beginning to show along his jaw line from where she had punched him earlier. She retrieved bag of frozen peas from the freezer, wrapped her arms around him from behind, and gently held the bag against the reddening skin. He startled at the sudden cold. "Hold still. It will help with the bruising." She instructed patiently, her arms still wrapped around him.

"Your hook really has improved since the last time you punched me." He leaned back against her slightly and gently placed a hand on top of the one of hers that was holding the cold compress against his chin. A heady combination of wine, exhaustion, and relief that he had not lost this unlikeliest, yet truest, of friends mixed with the pleasant sensation of her body being wrapped around his. It all comingled to make his mind race to a place that she had made it very clear that she had no intention of going tonight. In an attempt to derail that train of thought before his side-tracked mind could convince his body to follow, he suggested, "We should get back to the movie." She murmured some incoherent form of ascent, and he began to wonder if she might be thinking the same thing that he was. They made their way back to the couch with their glasses and the newer bottle of wine.

Slightly less than an hour later, as the movie came to an end, Annie was lying with her head on a pillow in Eyal's lap and intertwining her fingers with those of his right hand, while his left hand lazily combed through her hair. Two empty glasses, an empty wine bottle, and a bag of tepid peas sat on the end table beside the sofa. Neither had spoken since the part in the movie where Bond's asset/ lover sacrificed herself to allow his escape. He noticed her starting to nod off and suggested, "Perhaps it is time we move to the bedroom."

"I'm fine right here." She mumbled groggily.

Not sure if she was just too tired to move or if she was trying to avoid the unintended connotations of "going to bed" with him, he replied, "I've fallen asleep on this couch before. You think you're comfortable now, but trust me, you'll regret it in the morning."

She groaned but slowly stretched and got up to follow him into the bedroom. A twinge of panic overcame her haze of wine and exhaustion as he started to get into the bed.

He noticed her sudden hesitation. "Do you want this side?" He asked innocently.

It was enough to reassure her and she walked over to the other side of the bed and pulled back the sheets. "This is fine."

They settled under the covers, each occupying only their half of the king sized bed. To say that they were both feeling the effects of the two bottles of wine was probably a significant understatement. Regardless of his level of inebriation, he still retained enough control to know that he had no intention of encouraging her to do something she might even slightly regret in the morning. So as much as he ached to reach out across the mere inches separating them and take her into his arms, he would not make the move. It soon became apparent that having her so close, and yet still unattainable was like an entirely new form of torture. He shifted quietly, trying anything to keep his mind off of his slipping resolve. He laid flat on his back, noticing for the first time how many of the spots of ceiling texture vaguely resembled constellations in the night sky, when she apparently couldn't take it any more either. She rolled over towards him, cradling his side and resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and chastely kissed the top of her head.

"Good night, Neshema."

"Good night, Eyal."

As much as he wanted to stay awake, to experience every moment that she held him, to commit to memory every sensation associated with having her cradled in his arms, the comfort and security that their closeness brought quickly ushered him into a sound sleep.


End file.
